


Getting Back Up

by Joycee



Series: Psych [2]
Category: White Collar
Genre: Angst, Drug-Induced Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Drama, Psychologists & Psychiatrists
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-14
Updated: 2015-07-14
Packaged: 2018-04-09 06:57:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4338431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joycee/pseuds/Joycee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neal and Peter struggle to recover from drinking wine laced with Ecstasy and the sexual aftermath. Diana keeps their secret.</p><p> <br/><em>This story is a long follow-up to my short story Mopping Up. It might make better sense if you read that one first, although I don’t think it is essential to enjoying this one - I hope. If you are going to read both, it would be better to read Mopping Up first since there is some intentional repetition between the two stories.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Getting Back Up

Diana Barrington shook her head to try to clear her mind before she pulled out her phone to call her boss’s wife to let her know that Peter and Neal were on their way to the Emergency Room at Bellevue Hospital. She took a deep breath and waited for Elizabeth to answer.

“Elizabeth, this is Diana,” she said calmly, “I don’t want you to panic, but I need to tell you that Peter and Neal have been taken to the hospital because they unknowingly drank some wine that was dosed with the drug Ecstasy.”

There was a momentary pause and then Elizabeth said, “What? Oh my God! Are they okay?”

Diana responded, “I think so. Peter seems to be only temporarily affected. He is not incapacitated, just dazed and a little confused.”

Another perceptible pause, then, “And Neal?” Elizabeth asked.

Diana sighed aloud this time and said, “Elizabeth, Neal was unconscious. He was exposed to a higher dose than Peter because he drank more of the wine. He had a pulse and he was breathing, though, when they took him in the ambulance.”

“Oh my God,” Elizabeth said again. “I’ve got to get to the hospital. Will you be there, Diana?”

This time Diana hesitated, then said resignedly, “Yes, El, I’m going to the hospital now. I’ll see you there.”

Diana hung up the phone and stood where she was for a moment. All she really wanted to do right now was go home and sleep and forget about this. She switched to the photos on her phone and looked at the most recent one. As a trained FBI agent, Diana had quickly used her phone to snap a picture when she found Neal and Peter in the hotel room before she disturbed the scene. 

Now she looked at the photo of Neal’s very pink bare ass bent over the end of the bed with piles of clothing strewn at the foot of the bed and a stark naked Peter stretched out next to him with his arm flung over Neal’s shoulder. Shaking her head, Diana closed the photo and slid the phone back into her pocket.

Once again, she deliberately tried to focus on what she needed to do now rather than on the memory of mopping semen off an unconscious Neal with a wet towel while instructing an incoherent Peter to do the same to himself.

On her way to the hospital, she called Clinton Jones who had taken the suspects and the evidence back to the office. She had only filled him in on the briefest of details, but he had seen enough to understand the situation. “Clinton, I’m on my way to Bellevue to check on Peter and Neal. Do you have anything new for me?”

Jones replied, “No, I’ve been trying to get some information, but the perps clammed up as soon as we got to the FBI office. I did find out that the waiter who drugged the wine and gave it to Caffrey was a younger brother of someone in the gang we took down earlier in the evening, but I haven’t been able to get anything specific out of him about the exact amount he used.”

Diana asked, “What about the wine bottle? Have they analyzed it yet?”

“They’re working on that now,“ Jones said, “Some of our team found a small stash of the drug in the kitchen so we sent that for analysis, too.”

Diana said wearily, “OK, thanks Jones. I’m off to the hospital now. I called Elizabeth Burke and I’m meeting her there. I’ll let you know as soon as I have an update on their condition.”

Jones said, with obvious concern in his voice, “Please do. Everyone here is waiting to hear that they are all right.”

Diana couldn’t help saying, “I’m sure I don’t have to remind you to try to keep the details of the situation confidential.”

“Of course not,” he replied, “I’m not even sure I know all the details. I’ll be waiting to hear from you.”

Diana used her FBI credentials to park in the Police parking outside the hospital and flashed them again to be led to Peter and Neal, who were on stretchers in adjacent cubicles.

The Bellevue Hospital Emergency Department was one of the busiest in the city with over 250 visits per day, approximately 10 patients coming in every hour of the day. It was brightly lighted and full of busy medical and nursing personnel in scrub suits attending to the patients as efficiently as possible. Diana knew that Bellevue was also the regional Poison Control Center.

When Diana arrived at her boss’s bedside, he was sitting up with his eyes closed, but he immediately opened them when he heard her come in. Diana was told the doctor would be in shortly to update her on Peter’s condition.

Peter gave her a wry smile and said, “Hey, thanks for coming. Can you get me out of here now?”

He had rapidly come down from the high he felt earlier, but he felt a little hazy. He still had heightened sensitivity to his sensory perception and emotions. The lights and the noise were killing him and he was straining to try to remember exactly what had happened. Peter was not the type to sit back and just let things happen. He was used to being in charge.

Just then, Peter’s wife arrived and said, “I heard that Peter Burke! Don’t even think about getting off that stretcher before the doctor clears you to come home.”

Peter obediently lay back and eagerly received El’s kiss and hug as they both said, “Hey Hon.” Peter reached up and brushed a little stray hair off her face and told her, “Don’t worry. I’m fine. It’s Neal we have to be worried about.”

Elizabeth reassured him, “Of course, I’m going to check on him now. I’ll be right back.”

Diana was about to follow when the doctor walked in. She flashed her ID again and asked him to update her on Peter’s and Neal’s conditions.

Dr. Chandra pulled her aside and said in a low voice, “Mr, I mean Agent, Burke is stable and recovering well from what was probably a normal dose of the drug, MDMA, combined with a moderate amount of alcohol. Mr. Caffrey, on the other hand, received much higher doses of both MDMA and alcohol. His temperature was over 104 when they brought him in and he was unconscious. However, he was breathing on his own. We have taken steps to reduce his fever, we started an IV to hydrate him and administered oxygen by mask. He is just beginning to regain consciousness, but his condition remains serious at this time.”

As Diana processed that information, the doctor continued, “We do not know the exact dosage and composition of the drug that they were given, but we have taken blood and urine samples to test for toxicology and routine analysis of body function.”

He paused a moment and then added, “And to test for STDs. Someone tried to wipe them up, but it was obvious to clinical personnel that both men had ejaculated recently. There are no signs of forcible rape.” He observed Diana carefully for her reaction and then said, “But you knew that.”

Diana looked back at him steadily and stressed, “That information is strictly confidential, Doctor. There is a crime involved here and, until it has been investigated further, you should make no mention of these details to anyone else.” 

Dr. Chandra asked, “Does that include the patient’s wife?”

“For now,” Diana replied. “Peter Burke is my boss, but currently, I am in charge of the situation for the FBI.”

Dr. Chandra nodded and looked at his watch. “In that case, please let me know if you have further questions for me, Agent Barrington. I’m going to check on Mr. Caffrey now if you would like to accompany me.”

Diana glanced back at Peter, who was resting comfortably with his eyes closed again, and nodded.

The scene in Neal’s cubicle was entirely different. As Dr. Chandra and Diana entered, they saw Neal clenching the rails of the stretcher and struggling to sit up as Elizabeth and a nurse tried to calm him and get him to lie back down. He looked ghostly pale, his dark hair was as wild as his eyes, and he was shivering uncontrollably.

Diana could not control her urge to looked away for a moment before she walked over to Neal with the doctor. He quickly gave orders to the nurse to remove the ice packs and get some more blankets for Neal. Then he stepped over and grasped Neal’s arm and called his name.

The sound of the doctor’s calm voice and firm touch seemed to get Neal’s attention for a minute and he relaxed a little and sank back on the stretcher. He stared up at the doctor helplessly with his teeth chattering and gave a little moan. Dr. Chandra maintained his grip and began talking to Neal reassuringly.

As the nurse returned with the blankets and began piling them on Neal, Diana pulled Elizabeth back towards the hall. She basically related what the doctor had told her, leaving out the sexual details. Diana reached out and squeezed both of her arms in an embrace as tears ran down Elizabeth’s face.

Elizabeth folded into her arms weeping and saying, “I always worry about gunshots and violence, but this is so hard to see. Neal has been drugged before, but I’ve never seen him anything like this.”

Diana just said, “I know. Come on, let’s get you back to Peter right now.” Diana knew that would calm El.

As she returned to Neal’s bedside, Dr. Chandra caught her on his way out. He said, “I’m afraid Mr. Caffrey’s in for a pretty bad time for the next few hours, and maybe longer. We can’t give him anything for sedation for fear of increasing the effects of the MDMA and alcohol in his bloodstream. He is having a bad reaction and will need someone to stay by his side, if possible, to reassure him and get him to relax.”

Diana replied, “I understand. I’ll take care of it. How long do you intend to keep Agent Burke?”

The doctor replied, “I’ll check him again and, if he’s still stable and lucid, I’ll discharge him now. He should go home and rest, but he’s going to be fine. I’ll talk to Mrs. Burke about possible late reactions she should watch out for.”

Diane nodded and said, “Thank you, Doctor.” Then she turned her attention to Neal again. For the moment he was quiet and still under the warm blankets and his eyes were closed. Diana pulled a chair over and sat down beside him. She was used to going without sleep, but she suddenly realized how exhausted she was.

She had just closed her eyes for a minute before she heard a familiar voice in the hallway shouting, “Let me through. I’m Haversham, Neal Caffrey’s attorney and I demand to see him right now!”

For the first time she could ever remember, Diana felt incredibly relieved to see Mozzie pushing his way in, talking, bullying and complaining all the way. 

When Mozz saw Neal, he rushed to his side and sighed, “Oh, Neal, mon frère.” Then he faced Diana and raised his eyebrows and commanded imperiously, “Tell me what happened, Lady Suit.”

Wearily, she gave him an abbreviated and edited version of the events that led up to this point. Mozzie drew himself up as tall as he could manage and declared, “Not to worry. I’m here now. I know how to handle this. Why don’t you go get a cup of coffee or something.”

Diana decided to do just that, but first she stopped by Peter’s bedside to tell them that Mozzie was with Neal. She smiled to herself at the enormous relief they both showed, and she realized that El must have called Mozz.

The nurse came in to complete Peter’s discharge. Diana turned to El and said seriously, “Take him straight home and make him rest.” Then she went to get coffee and call Jones to update him.

It had been several hours since Peter had drunk the drugged wine and he was beginning to feel more like himself. He was surprisingly steady on his feet as he hugged El and then demanded, “Take me to Neal.”

As she started to open her mouth to object, he lifted his fingers to shush her and said seriously, “No argument, El.” She nodded and led him to Neal.

As Peter approached, Neal was having another restless spell and this time he was sweating profusely. Mozzie was struggling to restrain Neal while removing some of the blankets. “Suit.” Mozz acknowledged curtly.

Peter laid his hand on Neal’s arm and said authoritatively, “Neal.” The crazed man stopped struggling immediately and looked over to him. Neal’s mouth was too dry to talk, but he mouthed the word, “Peter.” Pure relief momentarily flooded Neal’s eyes and Elizabeth felt tears fill her eyes again.

Peter told him, “Neal, I’m right here. I want you to lie back and relax. Can you do that, Buddy?” Neal’s clouded eyes were fixed on Peter’s face and he nodded weakly. Peter assured him, “I’m going to take care of you now, okay Neal?” He gave a slight nod again and sank back onto the pillow as the tension drained from his body.

Peter refused to leave Neal’s side and it was no use trying to argue with him, so El brought a chair over for him and Mozzie went to get more coffee for all of them. Diana decided to go back to the office for awhile.

Every time Neal awoke and began to strain against the restraints on his arms and legs, Peter gently talked him back down and rubbed his muscles, telling him over and over again that it was going to be all right, that Peter wouldn’t let anything happen to him. Gradually, as the drug wore off and Neal’s fever subsided, he began to regain some composure. 

At last, Neal lapsed into a peaceful sleep and El was able to convince Peter to take a little break. Peter felt flooded with emotion as he related to El his memory of what happened. He described the whole team relaxing in the hotel bar after completing a successful op to take down a drug ring that was laundering money through stolen art.

Peter remembered seeing Neal acting very animated across the room and thinking Neal must have had drunk too much wine. Peter did not remember drinking a glass of the wine himself, but he did know he had taken Neal up to the 15th floor to the room they had used to monitor their operation so he could calm him down. The next thing Peter remembered was Diana waking him up and Neal being taken out on a stretcher.

El asked, “Do you think you drank more wine once you were in the room with Neal?” Peter gave her a quizzical look and said, “I just don’t know, El. I can’t remember.”

An hour later, with Neal becoming more stable all the time, El convinced Peter to leave Neal in Mozzie’s care and come home with her to rest. Mozzie promised to call as soon as Neal could be discharged from the hospital.

 

After a couple of days of being cuddled and encouraged by the Burkes, Neal felt he was well enough to go home. Peter agreed and fastened Neal’s tracking anklet back onto his leg and drove him to his apartment at June’s house. June and Mozzie were waiting to welcome Neal home.

Neal let them fuss over him a little and then shooed everyone out, feeling relieved to be alone again. His recovery from his severe reaction to the Ecstasy and alcohol had left him weakened and, after puttering around a little bit, he lay down on his bed and fell asleep.

Dreams of Peter making love to him dominated his sleep. He woke up soaked in a cold sweat with his fist around his sticky cock and realized that he had come in his sleep. As he moved to the shower and let the water run over him, he remembered some details from his dream. 

_~~~ Neal was dancing and stripping off his shirt and tie first and then Peter’s. Peter circled his arms around him and they tumbled back on the bed together. Peter flipped Neal over so that he was bent over the bed with his ass exposed. He felt ecstatic and impatiently rubbed his erect cock against the bed until Peter got them both completely undressed and took hold of him. Neal looked up at Peter with delicious anticipation and smiled, saying, “I feel really high, Peter.” Peter pushed Neal’s head back down and began kissing his neck and spine until he reached his ass. Neal felt so hot and could hardly wait for Peter to fuck him. The next thing he remembered was a mind-blowing orgasm that caused him to lose all sense of time and space – and then everything went black. ~~~_

After he got out of the shower and dressed, Neal felt strangely restless and uncomfortable. He decided to calm down with a glass of wine. He put the corkscrew into the cork wrong and it broke causing crumbs to fall into the bottle. Neal suddenly burst into sobs and sank to the floor, overcome with frustration and an inexplicable sadness.

When he got himself under control again, Neal strained the wine into a glass and sipped it. He moved out onto the terrace to get some air and calm himself with the spectacular view of the city. His attention focused on the Chrysler Building and he sat staring at it, memorizing it’s shape and subtle colors, until he finished his glass of wine.

He glanced at his watch as he came back into the kitchen and was shocked to discover how long he had been sitting out there. Feeling unsettled, he decided to go back to bed. When El called to see how he was, he was sleeping fitfully and did not hear the phone.

Neal wasn’t supposed to return to work for a few days, but he was bored and frustrated. When he was awake, he felt irritable and restless with occasional bouts of overwhelming sadness. His erotic dream recurred every time he fell asleep and he would either wake up hot and sticky as he had the first time or else just in time to finish stroking his aroused cock to climax. 

When Peter called to check on him, Neal tried to fake a normal conversation, saying he was doing fine. He asked Peter about work and was relieved to be able focus on the details of some new White Collar cases and the familiar patter of the office.

Suddenly Neal said, “Peter I want to come back to the office tomorrow.” Peter picked up on the stress in Neal’s voice and asked, “Hey, what’s going on, Buddy?”

Neal sighed and said, “Being alone is not all it’s cracked up to be. I need to work to, um, keep my mind busy.”

“Are you sure you’re ready?” Peter asked him. Neal replied grimly, “I’m sure,” so Peter offered to pick him up in the morning and Neal gratefully accepted. Secretly, Neal hoped he had made the right decision, but he knew didn’t want to go on the way he was.

When they got to work, everyone gathered around Neal and welcomed him back. He suddenly started to feel overwhelmed and tears filled his eyes. Peter was watching him carefully and noticed the change immediately.

“Come on, Neal, let’s get to work,” Peter said lightly, and gently steered a grateful Neal over to his desk. The rest of the day went by with only one small meltdown for Neal, but Peter noticed him staring into space from time to time.

Diana and Clinton Jones noticed Neal’s lapses, too, and exchanged worried glances. Finally Diana couldn’t stand it and strode into Peter’s office. “He’s not ready, Peter,” she said evenly. 

Peter said, “Well, he thinks he is. Apparently he was having trouble staying home by himself.”

“He needs help, Peter,” Diane stated, staring directly at Peter. “He’s traumatized by this experience.”

As Peter looked away from her, Diana suddenly pulled up on her phone the photo she had taken in the hotel room and forced Peter to look at it. Peter blushed bright red and quietly asked, “What do you want me to do?”

“Find him a good psychiatrist outside of the Bureau and convince him to get therapy. He needs help to recover from this experience. He’s feeling humiliated and confused and out of control,” she said.

As Peter gazed at her, Diana told him, “Peter, I would say the same thing if Neal was a woman, just so you don’t misunderstand.” Peter nodded and said, “OK, I’ll find someone for Neal to see."

Neal did not miss a minute of the tense interaction between Peter and Diana, although he could not tell what they were saying. He immediately determined that he would find out what Diana had shown Peter on her phone, but he had no opportunity that afternoon.

Peter drove Neal back to his apartment, after first asking if he would rather come back to the Burkes. Neal hesitated a moment and then insisted, with more confidence than he felt, that he would be fine at home. “Don’t worry,” he joked, “Mozzie won’t stay away for long!”

“Want me to come in with you?” Peter asked. Neal desperately wanted to say yes, but instead he shrugged, “That’s okay, I don’t need a nurse.” Peter drove off after waiting until Neal was safely inside.

That evening, Peter checked Neal’s anklet location so many times that El teased him about it and suggested he just call Neal and see how was he doing.

Peter told her, “Diana thinks I should make Neal go to a psychiatrist to deal with traumatic stress.”

“Oh Hon, don’t you think it’s just a matter of giving him a little time?” El asked.

“Umm, El, I need to tell you that something happened between Neal and me that night.” He began.

El replied slowly, “Like what happened, Peter?”

He sighed and got out his phone and pulled up the photograph that Diana had emailed him after their conversation that afternoon and said, “This happened.”

El gasped and stared at him. “Peter, did you… did you take advantage of Neal?” She stammered.

“No!” Peter said louder than he meant to. Then, “It wasn’t like that. We were both drugged and we both wanted it. I’m just not sure what Neal remembers.”

Elizabeth came over and petted his arm and said, “Oh Hon, maybe it would be a good idea for Neal to see someone. Maybe you should, too. I’ll ask around and get a name. Now, you call Neal and convince him.”

Neal had fallen onto his bed as soon as he got home and brooded until he fell asleep. When the phone rang, it startled Neal in the midst of his erotic dream. He grabbed the phone and gasped, “Hello?” and heard Peter say, “Neal? Is anything wrong? Are you all right?”

Peter heard Neal start to cry over the phone. Neal choked out, “No, I’m not okay. I can’t concentrate and I’m irritable and depressed and I keep having these dreams.…” 

Peter’s heart sank. He asked, “What kind of dreams, Neal?” but Neal wouldn’t answer. “Are they sexual?” Peter asked. When Neal said, “Yeah, they are,” Peter questioned, “Are they about you and me?” 

Neal replied, “Yeah, they are.” So Peter asked him, “Is that so bad?”

Neal took a minute and then said, “Well, no, but I can’t remember anything.”

Peter sighed and said, “Diana made me promise I would get you to see a psychiatrist a few times to work through this experience. It’s been stressful for you. El’s willing to ask around to find a good doctor.”

Neal said, “Well, I might be okay with that. Can I let you know tomorrow?” 

Peter replied, “Sure, Neal. Now try to get some rest and I’ll pick you up in the morning.”

When Neal didn’t answer the door, Peter opened it and walked in. He found Neal huddled in the corner of his shower, crying and shaking uncontrollably. Peter quickly turned the water off and wrapped Neal in a towel, then gently drew him to his feet and out of the shower. He put his arms around him and Neal put his head against Peter’s chest and clung to him tightly.

In a minute, Neal looked up and asked plaintively, “Peter, what am I going to do? What’s wrong with me?”

Peter wiped Neal’s tear-streaked cheeks with his thumb and then kissed his forehead. “What do you want to do, Neal?” he asked carefully.

Neal caught Peter's hand and kissed his fingertips and then kissed him deeply on the lips. He said, “That’s what I want to do.” Then he glanced down at the bulge under his towel and blushed.

Peter pulled him close again and held him. “It’s alright, Neal,” he said softly, “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Neal pulled back and looked up at him gratefully. He tried a smile, but Peter just patted his shoulder and said, “Why don’t you get dressed for work while I fix some coffee?”

When Neal came out in his classic tailored suit with matching tie and handkerchief, he had a smile on his face and he looked like his handsome, perfectly groomed self. He joked smoothly about sitting around drinking coffee instead of getting to work on time. As they headed out the door, Neal grabbed his hat, making Peter laugh when he smoothly flipped it onto his head and adjusted it to just the right angle with his familiar moves.

They discussed some open cases on the way to work. When he parked the car, Peter paused for a moment and squeezed Neal’s hand before getting out of the car and Neal gave him a grateful little smile.

A few minutes later, they got on the empty elevator and Neal suddenly began to hyperventilate, his eyes wide and his pupils dilated. 

Peter asked with alarm, “Neal, what’s wrong?” Neal pressed himself into Peter’s arms and refused to looked at him.

Peter patted him on the back and separated from him just as they reached their floor, still alone in the elevator. Peter said lightly, “OK, Buddy?” and Neal nodded, apparently back in control again.

When Peter got to his office, he worriedly watched Neal at his desk and then called his wife. “El,” he said, “Have you been able to find a psychiatrist for Neal? He’s scaring me.”

El replied, “Then I have some good news for you, Hon. There is a Dr. Grace Lilly at New York University that is highly recommended for PTSD. I have a customer who knows her in case you have trouble getting an appointment with her.”

Peter chuckled, “You don’t think a Special Agent at the FBI can get an appointment?” El laughed and said, “Well, OK then, here’s her number. Why don’t you call her right away, Hon?" Peter replied, “Oh yeah and thanks, El.”

Neal watched for his chance to get a look at Diana’s phone. When most of the agents were at lunch and Peter and Jones were in a meeting, Diana headed for the restroom and, uncharacteristically, left her phone on her desk.

Neal immediately strolled over and snagged the file under the phone, pulling it off the desk. He glanced around the room, pretending to be embarrassed, then squatted to pick up the loose papers. Shielding the phone between his leg and some papers, he quickly checked Diana’s emails and found the one sent to Peter yesterday afternoon. The subject line read “Caffrey” so Neal mailed the file to himself, then erased the record of doing it.

As he stood up, Neal neatly arranged the papers back in the folder and replaced it on Diana’s desk with the phone on top. Glancing around the room again, he returned to his own desk just before Diana returned and immediately concentrated on his computer screen.

Neal found himself unable to wait to see what was in the email so he took his phone and went to the restroom. As he opened the email that he just forwarded to himself, he was shocked. It was a picture. He stood there staring at his naked butt bent over a bed and a naked Peter stretched out beside him. He slowly sank to the floor and sat there, stunned.

Gradually, he recovered his senses and returned to his desk and pretended to stare at his computer again. Neal’s mind just shut down and he was unable to feel anything. Somehow he made it through the afternoon on auto-pilot.

Neal was very quiet as Peter drove him home, and again, he declined Peter’s offer to come in. As soon as he had closed the door to his apartment, Neal collapsed into a chair at the table. He slowly pulled his laptop over and called up the email from Diana to Peter.

This time he examined the picture closely with interest in the details of the room. It appeared to be a hotel room and his mind suddenly flashed back to the night they were given the Ecstasy. He saw himself kissing Peter in the elevator and pressing against him. He felt Peter gently guiding him down the hall to a room. Then his mind blanked out.

Well, Neal thought, that might explain my panic attack in the elevator this morning. Blushing, he realized that he had thrown himself into Peter’s arms. Suddenly feeling unbearably exhausted, he stripped down to his boxers and lay down on his bed.

This time when Neal woke up from his dream on the verge of climax, Diana’s picture of him and Peter flashed through his mind. His erection melted away as he recognized the connection to his dreams. Feeling calm, but confused, he showered and dressed and fixed a light dinner. This time he avoided the wine.

When Peter called, he felt numb, but he dutifully answered Peter’s questions and told him that he was okay. Neal assured Peter that he would be ready for work when Peter picked him up in the morning.

Peter hung up with a frown on his face. He shot a questioning look at El and said, “Hon, something’s not right with Neal, but he insisted he was fine. His anklet shows that he’s at home, but I’m worried.”

“Did you tell him about Dr. Lilly yet?” asked Elizabeth. 

“No,” Peter replied, “I wanted to wait until I had a definite appointment to send him to. The doctor’s secretary promised she’d give me a time tomorrow.”

“Well, she’s supposed to be really good with PTSD, so she’ll probably be able to help Neal,” El answered.

“If I can get Neal to go….” Peter sighed. El came over and kissed him and said, “You will, Hon. Now come to bed with me.” Peter gave her a grateful hug and a long kiss and said, “I just have to finish a few files and walk Satchmo first. I’ll be up soon, Babe.” He watched her appreciatively as she went upstairs.

True to his word, Neal was dressed and ready to go when Peter came to pick him up in the morning. He had awakened from his dreams with wet sheets again, but there had been no meltdown in the shower. He felt strangely calm and remained numb to feeling much of anything, but it was easy for Neal to put on a show of being cheerful for Peter.

Mid-morning, Peter received the call he was expecting from Dr. Lilly’s office and was told that the doctor would like to talk to him before she accepted the patient he was referring. Peter asked if she could do it right away and was told she would make time for him over her lunch hour.

Peter summoned Diana to his office and told her that he had found a doctor for Neal. He asked her to keep an eye on Neal while he was gone at lunchtime.

Diana studied Neal at his desk and wondered what was going on in his mind. Yesterday, the papers in one of her files had been out of order when she returned from the restroom, but she couldn’t see anything there that would be of interest to Neal.

When Diana asked Neal if he’d like to have lunch with her, he asked her if she would mind running him home instead. He made an excuse that he didn’t feel very well and she urged him to take the afternoon off and rest.

“That was a hell of a stressful event you went through, Neal,” Diana said.

Neal looked at her curiously and said, “Yeah, I guess it was. I don’t remember much of it. I hear you rescued me.”

Diana smiled, “You could say that. I guess you owe me one." Neal just said mildly, “Yeah, I guess I do.”

Safely home, Neal examined the picture again. He couldn’t make sense of it. Why would he and Peter have been naked on a bed in a hotel room during an FBI operation? He knew they had been dosed with Ecstasy in a wine bottle and he knew he had drunk a lot more than Peter had. He knew he had a bad reaction to the drug and ended up in the hospital.

No matter how hard he tried, Neal just could not remember much about that night. He looked at the bed with longing, but he was afraid to go to sleep and dream again. Instead, he decided to try the couch. He felt so tired; he just wanted to get some sleep.

This time he was disturbed by a knock on his door right after his dream started. He awoke with his hand on his dick, but he hadn’t gotten very far yet. “Just a minute,” Neal called out as he straightened out his pants and went to the door.

Neal opened the door and arched an eyebrow, “Peter. Couldn’t get along without me?”

Peter said, “Neal, we need to talk,” and Neal made way for him to pass into the apartment.

When they were both sitting down, Peter said slowly, “This isn’t easy.” Neal nodded and watched him intently. “Something happened between us the night we were given the Ecstasy. I don’t remember all of it, but I believe I know most of it.”

Neal got up and restlessly walked in a circle. In a small voice, he asked, “Does it have something to do with my dream?” Peter nodded this time. “Will you tell me what you know?” asked Neal.

Peter responded, “I will, Neal, but now, remember I told you I wanted you to see a psychiatrist?”

Neal interrupted, “No, Peter….” 

Peter sshh’d him and continued, “El found a specialist in Post Traumatic Stress Disorder at NYU. I’m going to go with you, Neal.”

Neal felt confused, but all he said was, “When?”

“Tomorrow afternoon. We’ll go together. Neal, I want to spend the night here with you tonight.” Peter said, and then added, “It’s okay with El, I asked her.”

Neal slowly nodded and said, “That would be nice.” Peter walked over and hugged the younger man and then Neal sought his lips for a kiss almost as passionate as the one he had given him that night in the elevator. Peter smiled and stepped back a little. He said mildly, “We’d better get some dinner.”

Neal finally slept soundly that night with Peter’s strong arms holding him. His erotic dreams did not bother him and he woke up feeling safe and refreshed. Peter was looking at him and smiling.

Neal asked, “Could I kiss you again?” Peter joked, “Oh, you’re going to ask me this time?” Neal nodded and Peter said, “Then, yes.”

After a sweet satisfying kiss, Neal felt stirrings in his pajama bottoms, but Peter broke away. “I need to go into the office this morning, but I want you to stay here. I’ll come back to get you about noon. We’ll eat lunch and then we’ll go to our appointment with Dr. Lilly at one.”

Neal grinned at him genuinely and said simply, “Okay.” It felt so good not to have make any decisions, to just do what Peter told him to do.

For a moment after Peter left, Neal wasn’t sure what to do, but then he had an idea. He got his sketchpad and some pastels, and then he pulled his computer over. He spent the morning absorbed in copying Diana’s compromising photograph, concentrating on every detail until he was satisfied. Before Peter picked him up, he rolled up his drawing and slipped into the inside pocket of his suit jacket.

 

When they arrived at the doctor’s office, Neal was nervous as a cat, but typically, he appeared calm outwardly to all but Peter’s experienced eye. Fortunately, Dr. Lilly did not keep them waiting long.

The doctor was a mature woman who was not very tall, but had a sophisticated look and an assured manner. She reminded Neal a little bit of June. Dr. Lilly immediately introduced herself to Neal and shook his hand and then led them into her spacious office. Neal admired her taste in furnishings, including some good Impressionist reproductions on the walls.

When Peter and Neal were comfortably seated on a soft pale yellow couch across from the doctor in her rich brown leather chair, Dr. Lilly began to talk to them in a competent, but soothing, voice. She addressed Neal first. “Mr. Caffrey, Agent Burke and I met yesterday and discussed a bit of your history with each other and the recent traumatic events that you suffered together in your work. Would it be all right if I call you Neal and Peter?”

Both men nodded. Then Neal said, “I’m not really sure what we’re doing here….”

Dr. Lilly smiled reassuringly and said, “I hope I may be able to help you put your recent experiences behind you so you can resume your life without anxiety. Peter told me that he is worried about you because you have been experiencing extreme mood swings, upsetting dreams, lack of concentration, panic attacks, and sudden bursts of crying. Does that sound about right?”

Neal slowly nodded and said, “Yeeess. I can’t remember much of what happened the night we were, uh, drugged, and I’m confused about what I do remember.”

Dr. Lilly encouraged him, saying, ”Yes, that would be upsetting, especially to someone who likes to be in control of himself at all times.”

Neal demurred, “Well, not quite at ALL times.”

Dr. Lilly smiled, “Are you making a reference to sexual experiences?”

Neal breathed in deeply and said, “Well, mostly, yes.”

Dr. Lilly asked, “Do you believe you had an out of control sexual experience while you were drugged?”

Neal suddenly pulled his drawing from his jacket pocket and laid it on the small glass table between them. “I believe this happened,” he said defiantly.

Peter let out a soft groan and the color drained from his face. “Oh Neal,” he said with moist eyes.

Dr. Lilly remained calm and watched the reactions of both men. Then she said, “That’s a beautiful drawing, Neal. Peter mentioned that you are an artist. What can you tell me about it?”

Neal’s eyes were filled with tears and he looked like he was about to bolt from the room. Peter reached over and took his hand and laced their fingers together. Then he said, “It is beautiful, Neal. I’d like to hear about it, too.”

Neal burst into tears and Peter moved over to hold him. After a minute, Dr. Lilly said, “I can see you are in a lot of pain. Will you let me help you?”

Neal slowly nodded, as Dr. Lilly came over and handed him a tissue. She asked if he would like some water. When he said yes, she suggested, “Then let’s take a break for a few minutes, and after that, I will discuss a plan with you both to recover your memories and your peace of mind.”

When they settled down again, dry eyed and interested, Dr. Lilly told them, “What I am going to suggest is unusual and not without risk. The conventional path would be to meet with each of you in weekly sessions over a period of several months to gradually draw out your emotions and help you cope with recovery of your memories. However, I can see that your suffering is severe and acute, and Peter explained to me how dangerous your line of work can be if not you are not operating at peak capacity. Therefore, I am going to suggest a shortcut, which you are free to decline or accept, as you choose.”

Both men nodded their heads for her to continue. Dr. Lilly proceeded to describe the experimental use of MDMA in psychotherapy of repressed emotional trauma. “I can only give the drug as part of my research, but I have had good success in the cases where I have used it. I believe it would be especially useful in your case, since it was the street version of this drug, combined with alcohol, which is the cause of your acute symptoms. I will explain the risks to you and we will discuss them in detail if you are interested. Or if you prefer, we can proceed with an expedited version of the usual treatment that I described.”

The two men looked at each other with a lot of doubt in their expressions. The doctor suggested, “Why don’t I give you two a little time together to discuss your options and then you can tell me your decision. Whichever treatment you decide on, we will not start today, so you will have time to change your mind before we begin anything. Is that all right with you?”

Both men gave their assent and she got up and left them alone in the room.

Neal immediately buried his face in Peter’s chest. As Peter tightened his arms around him, Neal said, “I’m scared, Peter.” He sounded like a small child and Peter could not stand to see his brilliant, creative, and cocky friend in such misery. 

Peter said, “Neal, I want to ask the doctor some more questions, because I sure don’t want you to have another bad reaction, but if she’s confident this will help, I think we should consider it. What do you think?”

Neal raised his head and looked at Peter and said, “I trust you.” Peter sighed, “Well, whatever we do, we’re gonna do it together, okay?” Neal nodded and pressed his face against Peter again.

This time, Peter pulled him back a little and loosened their embrace. “Now, tell me where you got that picture,” he said.

Neal laughed a little and said, “I got it off Diana’s phone, of course. She sent you an email with it.”

Peter laughed, too, and said, “I should never underestimate you!”

Dr. Lilly returned and asked if they had made a decision. They were both sitting up straight without touching each other. Peter said, “We’re interested in your rapid treatment, but we have a few more questions.”

After they discussed all the possible pros and cons, including the chances of bad side effects, they agreed to schedule a time to go ahead with the treatment. Dr. Lilly reached out and picked up Neal’s drawing and looked at it thoughtfully. “Will you let me keep this for you, Neal, until your treatment? I think it is something we will want to talk about then.”

Neal felt tremendous relief as he agreed. He liked this woman and he thought he could trust her as much as he could anyone. Because of Peter’s work schedule, they agreed to an appointment on a Friday afternoon so they could have the weekend to recover, if they needed it. 

 

Neal seemed much improved just knowing that help was at hand, but he continued to have the intense dreams of raw sex with Peter at night. He fought depression and lack of concentration and anxiety the best he could, but he knew he couldn’t keep it up. As he usually did before running a good con, he felt nervous right up until the day of the treatment and then he became cool as ice.

Peter was apprehensive, but he felt it was absolutely necessary to get Neal some relief before he endangered himself or just took off running. Peter had discussed it in detail with El and she encouraged him. She had heard of Dr. Lilly’s excellent success record and was confident in her ability to help Neal, and Peter, too. El knew that Peter had been unnerved by their experience, even though he didn’t suffer like Neal did.

During the week prior, each of them visited Dr. Lilly separately to allow her to assess their state of mind and take a medical history. They both signed what felt like dozens of consent forms, full of warnings and disclosures and permissions. 

When they arrived for their appointment, Peter and Neal were both dressed in comfortable Tshirts and sweatpants, as they had been instructed, and they had not eaten anything for eight hours in advance in case the drug made them nauseated.

Just before they left Neal’s apartment, Peter had turned to Neal and asked if he was ready and then removed his anklet. Dr. Lilly had assured him that she could guarantee that Neal would not be allowed to run. Just in case, Peter asked Jones and Diana to stay near their phones.

Dr. Lilly greeted them in the same room they had met her in before, but she had laid large soft bright-colored pillows and some flannel blankets on the floor. She had a selection of recorded music and asked them each to pick some favorites. She asked them once more if they were ready and when they assured her they were, she turned off the overhead light and the room was lit only with soft lamps.

The doctor handed each of them a small blue tablet and a tall glass of Gatorade and asked that they drink the entire amount to wash down the drug. She reminded them that the MDMA she was giving them was pure and in tablet form, not the probably adulterated powder that had been poured into the wine bottle, and would therefore, have a slower and smoother effect. In addition, they were both rested and sober and fully aware that they were doing this by their own choice.

The plan was for them all to talk together for awhile and then the doctor would leave the men alone together for a short break before she returned to help them process the experience. They would stay in this safe place for at least eight hours or until they were both grounded enough for El to come and pick them up. Neal would be spending the rest of weekend with the Burkes.

After they washed down the pills, Dr. Lilly took the glasses from them and then sat down in her chair across from them. She began by saying, “I’d like to start by having you both tell me about how you met and the work you do together. It seems like you have an interesting and unique relationship and I understand that you are quite successful in solving your cases."

Peter started by taunting Neal slightly with “Well, Neal is the most challenging criminal I ever pursued. It took me three years to catch him the first time and….”

Neal’s blue eyes were twinkling as he interrupted with, “But only a few days the second time because I let him catch me.”

Peter gave an ironic smile and explained how Neal had escaped from the Supermax prison with only three months left of a four year sentence, only to be let down by Kate. Neal continued the story of how he had supplied a piece of critical information for Peter to solve his current case and then proposed their arrangement as CI and handler instead of four more years of prison.

Dr. Lilly watched the two men interact as they spent the next hour describing their various exploits, laughing, teasing and filling in each other’s sentences. The amount of respect and affection between them was impressive. She could see how the personalities of these two very smart men complemented each other: the impulsive dreamer who loved action and excitement and the solid, experienced FBI professional who kept them grounded. It was clear that they routinely faced life and death situations where cooperation was essential for their survival.

The doctor noticed that they had become more animated and affectionate as they talked and she knew the drug was taking effect. Though she had many questions about the trust issues that were implicit in their roles as criminal and law enforcement agent and that seemed to be a recurrent underlying theme in the stories they told her, she decided to save that issue for later. 

At this time, Dr. Lilly stopped their description of past cases and asked them how they were feeling. Both men agreed that they felt a little excited, but comfortable. Dr. Lilly refocused their attention by saying, “Now let’s talk about the case that ended with you both getting drugged without your knowledge.”

Neal visibly tensed and looked toward Peter with momentary apprehension, but calmed down as Peter nodded at him. Neal started with a somewhat shaky, “Well, I know we all stopped for drinks in the hotel bar while the rest of the team was mopping up the operation. After that, I really don’t remember much until the time I was discharged from the hospital and went to stay in Peter and Elizabeth’s home for a couple days.”

Dr. Lilly nodded reassuringly and said, “That’s a common result of high doses of MDMA as well as a reaction to traumatic experiences. I’m going to help you try to clear that up today. Peter, what about you?”

Peter looked very serious as he began, “Neal had spent a couple of weeks posing as Nick Halden, art expert, working with the Domingo gang that was selling large quantities of Ecstasy to teenagers. They laundered their money by stealing expensive art and then selling it to private collectors. Nick gained their trust by pointing out a forged painting to them. Of course, he knew it was forged because he had painted it himself and switched it with the original. He managed to insinuate himself in to the point where he was able to get them on tape disclosing the name of their supplier and the location of their warehouse. That night, we set up a sting operation that resulted in the arrest of the gang and their supplier and confiscation of the contents of the warehouse. I was in the room next door monitoring Neal’s conversation and supervising the takedown. Neal was able to slip out after we got the information we needed.”

Dr. Lilly asked, “Was Neal wearing his tracking anklet at that time?” Neal shook his head and Peter explained that they took the anklet off whenever they sent Neal in under cover, but they continued to monitor him through GPS and recording devices. “At least, that’s the theory,” he said with a wry expression. Neal preened with pride as he smiled at that comment. “Theoretically,” he agreed slyly, eyes shimmering with excitement.

“So when you were in the bar that evening, Neal was not being monitored, is that correct?” Dr. Lilly asked. Both men shook their heads and returned to a more serious mood. “All right, so Peter, what do you remember about that evening?”

Peter began to describe his concern that Neal’d had too much to drink, but the doctor stopped him, saying, “I’d like for both of you to stand up and act this part out as you describe what happens.”

When Peter related how he noticed that Neal had loosened his tie and shirt collar and begun entertaining a group of people, Neal reached up towards his neck and began to sweat. “It was too hot in there,” Neal said, "but I was having a good time. I remember feeling less tired, like I had more energy after drinking some wine. A waiter brought a bottle to me and said, ‘Compliments of the House, Mr. Caffrey.’ I don’t know how much I drank.”

Peter took up the story again. “I believe it must have been a little more than half the bottle, because that was what was left when I picked it up and poured a glass for myself. I think that’s the only glass I had, but I may have drunk some straight from the bottle later.”

As Peter described how Neal had begun dancing with a young lady and attracting attention with their sexy moves, Neal put his hands up behind his head and did a full grind of his pelvis ending with a suggestive bump toward Peter. Peter gasped and Neal said, with slightly glazed eyes, into the playacting now, “Peter, do you wanna dance with me?”

Peter stared at him. Both men were breathing faster. Dr. Lilly prompted, “Then what happened?” so Peter took Neal’s arm and said, “Hey Buddy, come with me for a minute.” Neal walked with him and responded, “Where are we going? Do you want to be alone with me?” He seemed to be in a dreamlike state.

Peter said, “I took Neal on the elevator up to the room on the 15th floor that we’d used to monitor the operation.” Peter froze as Neal stood in front of him with an adoring look on his face and then pressed himself up against Peter and began kissing his neck.

Dr. Lilly stood up and gently detached an obviously aroused Neal from Peter. “Go on, Peter,” she directed. “what happened next?” 

Peter said slowly, “I think Neal started to sing when we got in the room….” Neal moved close to Peter again and smiled and sang, “Hey Big Spender, spend a little time with me.” Peter whispered, “Yes, that was it.” Then he said, “I’m sorry, I just can’t remember what happened after that.”

Dr. Lilly said, “That’s okay, you did fine. Why don’t we all sit down for a minute and look at Neal’s drawing.” She laid the drawing in front of them and said quietly, “Tell me what you see.”

They were quiet for a minute and then Neal began to cry. Peter put an arm around him and said, “What is it, Neal? What do you see?” 

Neal moaned forlornly, “They’re dead.”

Dr. Lilly put a hand up to keep Peter from reacting and asked gently, “Neal, why do you say that?” Neal just shrugged and his shoulders shook as he put his face in his hands and sobbed silently. Peter pulled him closer and began to stroke his soft dark hair, saying, “Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

In a firm voice, Dr. Lilly told him, “Neal? I want you to stop crying and look at me. OK? You’re safe here in this room.” She handed him some tissues and waited while Peter withdrew his arm and both men were breathing normally again. “You both did a great job. We’re going to take a break now. I’ll bring you some more Gatorade to drink. Then I’m going to go across the hall to my desk. I’ll be right there, close by, if you need me.” 

Dr. Lilly reached over and patted Neal’s hand and smiled at him. He rewarded her with a heartwarming smile of his own. She took the drawing and rolled it up again and took it with her. She returned right away with two glasses of Gatorade. “Now I want you both to just take it easy for a little while and not think about anything that has happened. Do you think you can do that?”

Both men nodded and they looked very tired. The doctor told them, “It’s okay to lie down on the cushions if you feel like it. Just rest and I’ll be back soon. Remember, I’m right across the hall.”

After she left, Neal got up from the couch and lay down on the carpet on his back with his head and shoulders on a big blue cushion. Peter noticed how pretty the blue made Neal’s eyes look, thankful that the crisis seemed to have passed. He stretched out on the couch and yawned and started to close his eyes.

“Peeeterrr?” Neal said seductively. “Will you come put your arms around me?”

Peter shivered with pleasure, but responded, “Not now, Neal. Just rest.” The next thing Peter knew, Neal was taking both his hands and pulling him off the couch, saying, “Come on, Peter…”

As Peter got up with Neal still pulling him toward himself, he fell forward, causing both of them to tumble to the floor. Neal landed on a cushion and looked up into Peter’s face with a sexy smile and said, “Hey there.”

Peter smiled and answered, “Hey there yourself.” Then he said, “Come here” and took Neal into his arms. Neal lay content with his head against Peter’s chest listening to his strong heartbeat and regular breathing for a few minutes. Then he pulled Peter toward him and leaned into him. He said, “I’m pretty high. Are you?” Peter responded by pressing his growing erection against Neal’s and kissing him deeply on the mouth. 

As they began to explore each other’s mouths with their tongues, they ground their pelvises against each other. Neal suddenly sat up and pulled off his Tshirt and then tugged on Peter’s. Peter allowed Neal to his remove his shirt and then he turned and flipped Neal over onto the cushion and was rewarded with a happy little squeal. 

Peter lay one hand on Neal’s shoulder and began kissing and nipping his way down his spine until he reached his pants. Peter drew himself up onto his knees and slipped Neal’s pants down over his feet and onto the floor. Then he quickly removed his own pants and leaned over to kiss Neal’s perfect round ass.

Neal murmured, “Peter, make love to me. Please? I want you so much.” Peter realized that the drug had lowered their inhibitions, but he didn’t have the will to resist. He wet his fingers with his mouth and rubbed them along the crack in Neal’s ass. Then he mounted Neal with his own wet hard cock plunging between Neal’s cheeks. He worked one hand underneath Neal to grasp his throbbing erection. Neal groaned with pleasure and breathed, “Yes, yes,” moving himself back and forth in Peter’s palm.

Peter moved with the same rhythm between Neal and the velvety cushion, as both men began moaning and panting. Peter continued to kiss Neal’s back and rub his face against Neal’s smooth skin. Neal moaned, “Oh Peter, you’re taking me higher. Harder, harder.” Then he was out of his mind and all he was aware of was Peter’s hand encircling his penis and Peter’s slick cock sliding over his asshole.

Neal arched up against Peter as his excitement peaked in a series of short jerks and an intense climax into Peter’s hand, then collapsed onto the pillow. Peter took hold of his own bursting cock and exploded into his other hand. He reach over awkwardly to grab a couple of tissues and then he rolled over beside Neal with an arm across his shoulder.

At that moment, Dr. Lilly walked into the room, momentarily stunned to find her patients in the exact position they were in Neal’s drawing. She quickly composed herself as both men scrambled to sit up and cover themselves. The doctor smiled at them and said mildly, “Don’t worry – it happens. I’ll come back in a couple of minutes.”

When she returned, Neal and Peter sat on the couch, hastily dressed and looking down. “Gentlemen,” she said, “Are you ready to tell me what happened?”

They both looked up at her helplessly. She chuckled and said, “Okay, I guess I know what happened. Now, are you ready to look at Neal’s drawing again?” Neal inhaled sharply and Peter took his hand. They both nodded.

Dr. Lilly laid the drawing out in front of them as she had before and instructed, “Tell me what you see.” 

Neal whispered softly, “Lovers.” Peter echoed in his deeper voice, ”Lovers.” 

The doctor smiled and rolled the picture back up. She said, “We have some more things to talk about, but first I’d like to offer you a chance to shower," and she nodded toward the bathroom. "I’m going to bring you some more Gatorade.” 

Two greatly relieved men smiled happily back at her.

**Author's Note:**

> 1- MDMA short and long term effects & OD: FACT SHEET - MDMA, Ecstasy http://www.nhtsa.gov/people/injury/research/job185drugs/methylenedioxymethamphetamine.htm  
> 2- MDMA & psychotherapy - http://healthpsych.psy.vanderbilt.edu/MDMA_therapy.htm  
> 3- The names of the doctors at Bellevue and NYU are entirely fictitious and not based on any real persons.
> 
> WARNINGS/DISCLAIMERS:  
> Ecstasy (MDMA) is a dangerous drug that should not be used recreationally. The type of therapy described here is not currently available in the U.S.
> 
>  
> 
> The White Collar characters were created by Jeff Eastin for USA TV.


End file.
